two weeks

we've had a house guest for the last two weeks...and while it was great to have her (italian bf's 4th grade teacher), I'm pleased at the prospect at peeing with the door open again...and not having to find my night clothes before i shower...

but there are a couple of things that maybe I should carry over out of courtesy for italian bf...like double checking to make sure there is no dental debris in the sink after I brush my teeth.

white zin, white trash

In the 80s and 90s, conventional (stereotypic) white middle class wisdom said that only the white trash drink white zin. Bonus points if it came in a box. and then someone decided to re-market white zin to other groups...I got curious and bought a bottle. conclusion: it tastes like bad white grape juice with way too much sugar added.

Tonight, I managed to give, in Italian, my take on white zin's recent marketing history. The glass of the stuff I gulped down on an empty stomach helped a lot with the flow of the verbs. Our italian house guest listened intently and pretended not to mind being served "truzzi wine". (truzzi is white trash in italian).

I also know how to say "I have a hard on" in Italian...but you'll have to ask your local pizza guy for the translation :)

beer for dinner

i should be eating a salad, but I don't feel like washing the lettuce right now. so i'm just having a beer. I had a big lunch, so it's no biggie. I talked to douglas on the phone for almost 90 minutes tonight...it was so nice to catch up with him...and we came up with a sign for his chair, but I think it was a much broader possible usage:

Don't use me as a benchmark of mediocrity.

btw, speaking of beer, benchmarks and mediocrity, did you guys read that Married with Children has gotten so big in Russia that Sony hired back the original writers, to create additional episodes for the Russian market...PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE release the Russian versions in the states, complete with english subtitles

update: I want real food now.

ventura make-your-own hotel waffles

note to self: the self-serve waffle-making station at our Ventura, Ca hotel yields undercooked waffles.

note to self: the 8 hour train ride (due to major delays) from san diego to ventura yields hilarious conversations with nice people on the train.

beepers

remember when beepers were the cutting edge technology only required by doctors and drug dealers? and now...not that far into the future, everyone AND their grandmother has a cell phone that is so so so much more powerful. what the hell is next?

Larriland mentioned in New York Times

I suppose it was inevitable...Larriland Farm mentioned in the New York Times. Sure, the mention was just in passing, but still. Little ole Larriland, the place where hog halves hung from the old barn in the early 1980s, way before local produce was cool (but before it all but disappeared before making a comeback more than a decade later)...little ole Larriland has made it into the New York Times. Larriland is the pick-your-own farm that we visited numerous times per year, to pick strawberries, peaches, nectarines, raspberries (to eat off bush but not buy), apples, spinach, pumpkins and various other fruits and vegetables. The farm has grown exponentially since the early days...and it's a little sad to see how successful they have been...but it's better than the alternative...the McMansions that are popping up all over the surrounding parts of Howard County. Icky.

More Larriland thoughts in another post...but I saw this and had to share...it's also interesting to me that the reference is in a story about Frederick, MD, the new cool "old Maryland town" a frontier of sorts according to the author...this is funny because we grew up visiting a VERY different Frederick. We grew up visiting our dad's parents who retired in the first explosion of siding-clad split levels that attached to old Frederick like a wart attaches to a toe that's been to the locker room one-too-many times.

I don't think douglas was there, but I'll never forget the time granddad took some of us through what was then the current construction site in their neighborhood and down to the Monocacy River. (Every visit to our grandparents split level in "new frederick" seemed to co-incide with the beginning of another siding-centric tract development in the fields that used to surround Frederick.) Grandad walked us through the construction, through a dried-out corn field and down a steep slope to the muddy waters of the Monocacy river just to see it. One of those moments you never forget. Along our walk, we found a bone from some large animal, a horse or cow probably.

sun goes down and the leeks start cooking

sun goes down and the leeks start cooking

it helps to have an italian houseguest who knows her way round the kitchen to help with the leek (porri) soup.

douglas' turkey saga part two

italian bf is back from LA and when I relayed douglas' turkey-day conondrum to him, he was like...well...if he has work he absolutely has to do and he has the drive to do it over thanksgiving...maybe he should just stay and do it...

hmmm...maybe that's the drive you need to actually do grad school...(I wouldn't know)...so anyway douglas, I am offically not preaching to you on this...i say do what you need to do, but make sure you take a break and step back and try to reconnect with yourself before the final push till the end of the semester...maybe going home will do the trick and maybe 2105 GWP is not the right option...but do find something that takes you away for a short time...do you have a crash pad in manhattan?

and btw, it's not like i'm going back to the rents this turkey day. italian bf and I are driving up the coast from sd to sf and then I'm flying back to sd and he is driving back w/ an old friend who is visiting from italy.

go home for thanksgiving Douglas!!!

Douglas, the youngest of the 6, is in architecture grad school at Yale. this is his first semester. He barely sleeps b/c he has so much work to do. I just talked to my mom and she said he said he isn't coming home for Thanksgiving b/c he has to work on a paper.

Come on Douglas!!! You have the whole week off...can't you go home for at least a couple of days? Get some good food, a night of sleep and a change of scenery?

Knowing that you are going home will also make you more productive for the first part of the week when you are still up at school...and if you are going home, you better buy a ticket soon...you don't want to decide to go home at the last minute and then realize you can't get a ticket...

now...on the other hand...if you are saying you have a paper b/c you have a hot week-long botty call next week that you don't want to miss out...then that's up to you...but thanksgiving only comes along once a year...and if you don't want to go home, then go somewhere else...what is Amanda doing? go see her! or go hang out in Manhattan...but enjoy yourself for at least 48 hours...you'll be glad you did.

it's gotta be...

it's gotta be dirty.

The paper version of the Christmas Letter HAS to be dirty. There is just no two ways about it.

I apologize in advance to all those souls who have transcended sex and find such lust-tinted musings on life tired, unamusing and pitifully revealing of a week psyche and spiritual inner life.

anyone who has received the paper letter in the past and would like to cancel their subscription should do so in the next 7 days.

****this note not required by law****

how to give yourself a wet willy

to give yourself a wet willie without actually sticking a wet finger in your ear is easy. All you need to do is accidentally drop your right ear bud into a cup of black tea that's gone cold. You let the ear bud sit on your desk for two hours, then insert it in your ear, sure it's dry by now.

and now it's time to squirm as memories of gross people sticking wet fingers in your ear rush into your brain. Remove ear bud and watch drop of tea pour out of the little holes in the ear bud.

repeat.

just back from yoga

just back from the yoga class that I teach on tuesday nights.

Tracy Chapman's new cd Our Bright Future turned out to be a hit with the folks who practiced tonight.

only 7 people came to class, which is not great for the studio's revenue, but it is great for the students who did come. I had more time to give assists and to connect with each of the students.

lots of folks will be away next week turkey day...but I'll be there...hmmm...maybe I need to come up with a turkey pose...

Fig Leaf 2.0

if vegetables are vestments, do they still count toward the five-a-day goal?

anza borrego italiani

yesterday's fun

Friday Fist Bump

Friday fist bump to everyone!

In the last 48 hours, I have found myself in two separate fist bump scenarios.

In the first, I was simply an observer...sitting inside a cafe with tinted windows watching the world go by...in particular, the world happening at the table directly in front of me, but on the other side of the tinted window. I watched a dude sit at the table, with an air of excitement...clearly waiting for someone...and that someone turned out to be a buddy of his...they greeted with a fist bump. The dude who arrived first pulled out a colorfully wrapped gift for dude number two, who opened it right away. Inside? Skater shoes. A late 30s straight dude gave his fist bumping straight dude friend just the sort of "post-skater airwalk-espue" black shoes one would expect.

And then yesterday, a man of color who I interact with at work about once every other month greeted me with the more traditional four-part handshake...I was cool for the first three of the four maneuvers, but then stalled and didn't produce my fist for part four: the fist bump. We laughed, and then he noted that the cool thing now is to go straight to the fist bump. Who has time for all the handwork foreplay leading to the fist bump? Apparently not the dudes of America.

thursday post

wine, beer and bread

yogurt, milk and toothpaste

to the store I go with haste

thankful for my job and living place

full-moon chipotle warning

if you are like me, you should stay away from Chipotle when it's a full moon.

this is a lesson I learned today after eating at Chipotle on a full moon.

I took a big bite of my burrito and when I swallowed realized that I bit off and swallowed a nice chunk of aluminum foil along with my rice, beans and tomatoes.

at least the foil was thin...and not the heavy duty aluminum foil that is good for covering furniture before wild parties.

marichi d

UPDATE: an alternate version of this post will be added to the blog in the near future

i was doing the pose described in the yoga forum entry pasted below...the pose is called marichyasana d and I treat like an outhouse in Ohio in the 1980s...you get in there do what you have to do and get out...but today was completely different? why? because I was so with the breath that all movement was like union of peanut butter and jelly? hell no! i wish...it was different in that I was in no rush to leave because my gazing point was the cutest 8 month baby I had ever seen, hanging out next to her mom who was practicing yoga. the baby sat there with perfect posture...spine so strait, while the homosexual in front of her tied himself up like a pretzel in some abstract attempt to be a whole lot more like her...sitting there fully aware and present...enjoying her mother and occasionally spontaneously giggling...giggling for no particular reason...just giggling because she could and because being happy is always an option. I didn't know 8 month babies are such good yoga teachers...but i think this is the secret the new parents are all hiding from me...that your baby is your guru and your student at the very same time. how fucking cool is that?

one person's take on marichi d is below and here

Hahaha...you're first mistake was even attempting such foolishness!

Okay, let's assume for the moment that you're body can actually do the pose with or without buttering your hips and duct taping your arm to your knee....

Let's say the left foot is in half lotus and the right foot knee is pointing to the sky. Now pull your right sit bone back and move your right foot a little more to the right. That should widen your base. Now the fun. Sit up tall as you inhale and twist to the right as you exhale. Use your right hand to pull the belly flesh out of the way (if you have a little extra like me). Lean to the right to get your left armpit to the outside of your right knee. Put the right hand back down for support.

Okay here is a good trick: EXTERNALLY ROTATE your left arm first as you press the triceps into the outside of the knee. Then INTERNALLY ROTATE the arm to bring the hand down towards your left hip. Now look over your right shoulder stretch your right arm really far out and EXTERNALLY ROTATE the right arm as far as possible before INTERNALLY ROTATING it to meet the left hand. Left hand grabs right wrist and you try to straighten the right arm.

Okay as for balance remember how you moved your right sit bone back and your foot out to the right more. That should give you a wider base. The right knee should lean in towards the center of the body as the bind tightens. Glue the right foot down and try to pull the heel closer to the sit bone. Now the stability comes from your uddiyana bandha. You keep the navel pulled into the spine and let the breath fill up the kidneys and lengthen your tailbone down towards the floor like an anchor.

Besides all that, it's just practice. The more you do it, the calmer you get in the pose and you find the stillness that you need.

Will Hang Lights for Cash

A home-made sign on the exit ramp for The 5 at La Jolla Village Drive offers to hang your christmas lights for you. I suppose there is a market for this, but I have such fond memories of hanging white christmas lights on our mostly dormant azalea bushes...and memories of happily plunking down my own hard-earned cash from raking the leaves of various neighbors to buy more lights to put on the bushes. I was SO into Christmas lights...into the thrill of reaching the crest of Gatewood Place (the block before ours) and looking down the hill and halfway up the next hill and seeing the white lights lighting up the bushes. But I think more than anything, I sought the feeling of personal expression and validation I got from seeing my efforts "lit up at night."

Perhaps

1 in 12.5 million...Nov 9 post

I already knew that italian bf is one in a million, but I now have empirical evidence that he is 1 in 12.5 million...

well...sort of...only 1 in 12.5 million spam emails results in a sale...and italian bf became that statistic yesterday when, in a panic, he bought anti-spyware software from a fake website and thus joined a botnet and became a computer zombie...

italian bf, if you wanted to be a zombie...you could have been one for Halloween, you didn't need to turn your computer into a zombie!!!!

it's crazy how much legwork is now requrired...in addition to blocking the credit card and monitoring all the other credit cards, italian bf has had to go through and change every freaking online account password that we have...since it's possible that his keystrokes were captured...including a crucial password that is used for many different accounts..

this is exactly why they say you should have different passwords for every account...but how the hell are you supposed to remember them all?????????

Apple Crisped

I got my ass kicked by apple crisp. An apple crisp that I made. An apple crisp with apples, pears, (too many) cranberries and persimmons that won't ripen. After the usual butter, brown sugar, oatmeal, flower, cinnamon and nutmeg topping had been applied to the raw cut up fruit, I threw on cardamom for an extra gourmet kick.

After 35 minutes in the oven at 350 degrees, let's just say that the wouldn't-ripen persimmons magically turned into almost-rotten-tasting baked sweet potatoes. The cardamom gave the whole dish a vaguely ethnic....maybe Indian...vibe that joined with the sweet potatoe punch to create a nauseating combination of tastes.

what to do?

Step one: pick out the rest of the persimmons and throw them away. Nevermind the loud thump you hear every time you drop a persimmon chunk into the sink. How heavy are they anyway?

Step two...leave it in the fridge for 36 hours longer than you should

Step three...attempt to eat on a nearly empty but relatively nauseated stomach that is the result of deciding to try out Pizzaria Uno pizza after many years. You have fond memories of going to an Uno's in Georgetown with Mike H. at some point either during or after college.

Step four...enjoy your day...if you can...

McBarneys

wh-words

it's good to have an italian bf who studies "wh" words like "what, who, when and where-the-hell-is-my-martini" ...and this wh scholarship comes in especially handy when you go to a bad exhibit and a contemporary art museum and leave with a big black and white post striped card that says "what" if you hold it just right and plug your left nostril and think only in verbs for 18 seconds.

it comes in handy b/c you have someone to hand the card to who won't be as snotty and snobby as you...someone who is happy to have a fettishized "what" in the house.

birthing pain

Peter,

I think you said it right...we have our country back! if this election is the birth of a new era in america, then maybe the vote to stop gay marriage in california is the labor pains...or maybe when the vagina tears all the way to the anus...yes, I think that's about right...in time it will heal, but in the meantime, it's shitty (literally and figuratively)!!!

i'm glad u found an obama party in Paris. we went to an all night coffee house and just watched the happy people stream in and out...it was fun...

:) d

Nov 4 Ballot photos

scenes from the ballot box...

Nov 3 standing up out of backbend

it's monday (well, it's actually wednesday, but i am pretending it's monday)...it's monday night and I finished my yoga practice. I stood up out of backbend for the second time in my yoga life. It was the first time I did it without spreading my feet super super wide. how did it happen? in preparation for tomorrow's vote, my brain made some sort of connection between "every vote counts" in democracy and "every breath counts" in yoga...and so in my backbend series, I was successful in my efforts to stay with the breath...and on the fifth backbend, I just started rocking back and forth between feet and hands and before I knew it I was standing up. this was in the living room. it was almost completely dark. I was like "cool"...and I kept going with the practice.

Nov 2 Soda Fountains?

I had a lemon phosphate at an old tyme soda fountain yesterday (Nov 1) in Julian. It tasted like lemon soda. Not sure what all the fuss about soda fountains is. Of course, I was already a bit jaded b/c it was the town's "apple days" and there were hardly any apples around...I guess they were all put into the pies that people were waiting in line for...waiting in line for pie...maybe they are just practicing for waiting in line on tuesday...

vote no on 8 rally pic Nov 1 post

i was going to try to post every day this month (NaBloPoMo)...but it's now the th 5th...so i'm going to do some back tracking...

It's saturday night, and I just got back from the Vote No on Prop 8 rally in Hillcrest. They ran out of candles and there were more young lesbians than you might find at an MC Flow concert (and that means a whole lotta young lesbians). there were also a ton of cops, who were intent on making sure we stayed on the sidewalk. Critical mass blew through on bikes dressed like skeletons...bad ass!!! I wanna be a critical masser here in sunny d.

if animals were people...

in response to my vegan condom question, douglas posed the following question:

"I didn't know that animal products were involved [in non-vegan condoms]. I wonder what animals would make out of us if things were switched around..."

good question, esp when there are only five minutes before halloween begins on the east coast.

what would a cheetah do if it were a human and we were exotic animals (as cheetas are to us)? hmmmm...for one thing, they might like us b/c we are such slow runners...they'd think it's cute...and they might like how great our camoflage works when we are walking next to really boring walls. that could be really cool to a cheetah. what else? i don't know...I think they might use our emptied out penises as change purses...did i just quote from a bad b movie that is playing right now somewhere in a dark smoky bar? and why am i not there right now?

vegan condoms?

i saw a sign yesterday for vegan condoms. It said "protect yourself and the animals at the same time."

Are vegan condoms for real?

gloom and doom

My parents are just back from a two week trip to my mom's parents' farm in Nebraska. My grandparents are in their 80s and still living independently on the farm (my uncles who still farm help out a lot of course).

My mom picked up a Wall Street Journal in the DC airport to read during the 2.5 hour flight. The newspaper ended up in my grandparent's kitchen, and my grandpa took it with him to his reclining chair in the living room by the picture window that looks east across the clay hills of east central nebraska. This is his spot for reading the local newspaper, printed in a town of 800. After studying the Marketplace section of the WSJ with a powerful magnifying glass, he said...

"I don't know where this newspaper came from, but it's all gloom and doom."

More Palin Bashing

More Palin Bashing...i like the baby names on the wall

hat top to Chris

Vote no on Prop 8 in CA

Two friends of mine (a gay couple) recently got married here in California and they turned what might otherwise be a for-friends-only 3 minute video into a powerful statement for what is so incredibly wrong with attempts to prevent same-sex couples from having all the rights that hetero couples enjoy. Vote no on Prop 8!! If you get bored, just watch the beginning and then the end...or just take my word for it.

ear plugs and alarm clocks

There is an inherent cochlear conflict in utilizing both ear plugs and an alarm clock. Sure, the ear blocks block out the ambient noise and drunk screaming grad students at 2 AM. But said ear plugs also block out the alarm clock in the morning.

Isn't there an overachieving high school student out there who needs a diversion from hacking into bank websites who can engineer a solution to my predicament???

Facebook Faceplant

I took a big ole Facebook faceplant this afternoon. I created a Facebook page months ago in an attempt to better communicate with people within the university where I work. That didn't really happen. Instead, I've amassed a motley crew of friends, classmates and former acquaintances. But it's still a work thing.

In typical style, given uncertaintly and a bit of mild conflict, I just avoided the situation and didn't log on for months. But I still get email notifications saying that so-and-so has requested you as a friend on Facebook. So today, I logged in and "friended" a ton of people...and then answered a question in my Facebook messaging box from someone I don't know. He wanted to know how not to "crush your junk when you do yoga," as he put it. After dispatching some sage advice about NOT wearing boxers at yoga, I said hi to a guy from gradeschool who posted an adorable picture of his unshaven face and a little baby...you know, the kinds of pictures that advertising firms use to get women to ovulate and/or buy perfume.

and then I requested Facebook friendship from a dude from grade school who appears to live in LA. I've actually tried to find him via google b/c my mom said that he was in LA. But I never could find him.

And then I clicked on a picture of another friend and learned that a cool guy I know...my first hookup after my first love and I were definitively no longer together(can you tell I'm mincing words?)...has become a firefighter. So, at least, I can say I have retroactively hooked up with a firefighter. That counts for something, right?

and I joined my gradeschool class of 1990 facebook group and looked at a picture of a little blond boy with smooth skin and shining eyes that turned out to be me.

Then I logged out and walked outside. The soft afternoon sunlight and cool ocean breeze felt real, good, and strange all at once. Being in once place at one time felt real, good, and strage after being in that bizzare time capsule that is Facebook.

if obama loses...

UPDATE: Thanksgiving too.

I totally don't get it. After eight years of Bush, still people think it's the dems who are going to destroy the country (and world)...

I wonder how the big P is going to do on SNL...the spoof of the spoof...like her being picked as the VP candidate...totally surreal

scuscuscuscuscuscuscuscuscuscuscuscuscuscu

scuscuscu = solar conference update solar conference update solar conference update

beer + exhibit hall = a freaking good idea

one of the solar companies brought in two kegs for "the night with joe public." this night is not to be confused with "the night with joe plumber" which, of course, was happening at the same time on the laptops of the exhibit booth jockeys who were tired of fielding questions from "joe public" and thus traded us for laptop screens featuring two politicians trading "joe plumber" quips.

joe public likes beer when he wanders through an exhibit hall. I'm not sayin it was the beer per se, but I i spotted one company that I liked a whole lot from their name "Sun Pimps" until I realized it was really "Sun Pumps". Sum pumps are cool...but Sun Pimps woulda been way better. Pimpin' out the sun...that's what we do, and we do it for you.

but seriously, there is a reason that "cocktails" are a crucial part of "cocktail parties" and "cocktail party conversations". the cocktails help with the conversations. and likewise, beer helps with the formulation of deep questions regarding surge protectors for rooftop solar systems from joe publics who own neither a solar system nor a roof to mount it on.

PS when i type "mount" i think about rabbit breeding, and the pamplet that described how (and how fast) the buck would mount the doe. Associated with this memory is that of the page in said pamphlet in which one determines the gender of the bunnies that were the fruit of said mounting.

newbannernewbannernewbannernewbannernewbanner

Solar conference

I'm headed downtown to the convention center for the night of the big solar conference in which Joe Public can attend for free and see all the solar bells and whistles for sale. I'm hoping to learn about solar water heaters, not that I can install one in our rental, but I'm just curious.

I'm also curious to check up on the green-washing I expect to see from the big utility companies...

more later

Talk to your parents about John McCain...

hat tip a blog on The Nation for this from MoveOn.org

Candy Corn: Basta Cosi

It's still three weeks BEFORE Halloween, my costume is still only inside my head, and I've only seen one carved pumpkin around town.

HOWEVER...I have already overdosed on candy corn. And I don't plan to buy (note: buy not eat) any more candy corn this year. The problem is that they sell small bags of Jelly Belly candy corn on campus, and I've bought 5 bags so far this year. Basta cosi (which literally and figuratively means "stop here")

Only time will tell if my basta cosi is all bark and no bite.

Newman's Own Nation

We all know Paul Newman died.

We all liked his food business even if we didn't buy his products.

We all thought we was f*cking hot (or handsome)

When asked about his long-lasting Hollywood marriage, he said,
"Why go out for a hamburger when you have steak at home?"

And I just now read a short article in the latest issue of The Nation that outlined just how incredibly valuable he was to The Nation during a financial crisis in the 1990s (we're talking more than a million bucks)

And so I have to say Thank You Very Much Paul Newman.

And if you don't check out The Nation, do so (and get a subscription if you can afford one. You generally find what The NYTimes (and all the rest) will be covering in a couple of weeks or months, but less whitewashed. And while you're at it, check out an interesting (and short) article about the rise of Reagan's Supply Side economics whose final paragraph includes the following:

McCain and Palin are losing to Obama and Biden, thank God. But even the possibility that the most powerful nation on earth is in danger of electing yet another president characterized by dishonesty, belligerence, ideological obsession and personal recklessness--coupled with a vice president whose life experience makes her more appropriate for a casting session of Desperate Housewives than a cabinet meeting--gives one pause when considering the future of this country, regardless of whether we manage to avoid this catastrophe on election day.

Christmas is a little confused

friday night in la jolla

walking home from work on friday night i felt a bit anxious.

that friday night je ne sais pas!

and then the camera came to the rescue.

i turned the walk into a photo shoot.

dirtier mind than me

i am always pleased to be taken by suprise by someone who processes information in way that out-dirties me. This week, for example, I was engaged in a serious conversation about getting approval to pay a contractor at work to return to finish a job that, according to a higher-up, was not done properly.

to fix the problem was going to cost $1700 and would involve uninstalling some hardware and reinstalling it 1.5 inches to the left.

"Is it worth it to pay $1700 for an inch and a half?" he asked, paused, and then burst out laughing.

at that point, of course, I got it.

financial crisis or not, 1.5 inches for $1700 sounds like a pretty good deal.

54 people died in TJ last week

at least 54 people died in tijuana last week in gang battling over drug-entry-into-the-USA turf. and as my bro nicknamed (by me) "egg salad sandwich" pointed out tonight on the phone, "How many people have died from smoking weed?"

exactly...but that's what we're good at...putting people in jail and going to war.

and building roads we don't need...but that's another story.

where was I? oh yeah, italian bf bought a great nina simone cd that arrived in the mail this week and I can't stop listening to "who am I?"

but i have to be careful or i'll OD on the song and then it will be a long time till I can enjoy it again...i've done that so many times already...there is always a miniobsession...the other one right now is black tighty whities. yes, black ones. they are the shape of tighty whities but just black...so i guess they are really tighty blackies but that doesn't have the same ring to it. I was firmly in the boxer brief camp for ages and then italian bf bought me tighty blackies and I can't stop wearing them. It's like I've been taken over my an alien life form that demands this and only this type of underwear...for more on underwear...(not mine thankfully) stay tuned for the paper version of the christmas letter, in your mailboxes the second week of december.

"where did the last week go?" asked the beef.

where did the last week go?

i don't know.

Did I learn to paint and weld?

That list of to-do's...was it felled?

no and no

and still, last week, boy did it go.

the sun came up, the market went down

an extra 700 billion we miraculously found.

the world kept moving round and round.

and i sat here. ground beef. a pound.

a pound of ground, that's what I am.

not green eggs and ham, not sam i am.

I looked up from my whole foods case

into starring eyes on a la-jolla-lady face.

she chose a steak right next to me.

she didn't check the price. it's all about free.

when you have enough cash to never ask prices

and you hire someone to tell you what arborio rice is...

...silence...

how the hell do I know what she was thinking? she just starred into the case and pointed at a steak. And then she left. She walked over to the hot seafood bar, which if you ask me, stinks. I've been sitting in this case for the last year. Nobody buys me because I slink around at night and always look like the freshest meat in the morning, which means they sell the others in the case not me. I just hang out and watch the meat come in and out of the case. I don't have the numbers on just how much is sold and how much is thrown out...but the ratio ain't pretty. there is a lot of waste.

My favorite thing about life in the case is hanging out with the garnish kale. they always have funny stories they overheard from the migrant workers who pick them. One of them even managed to sneak in the sexy sprig of cilantro he was banging. Those two garnished like there was no tomorrow...for about a week...and then there was no tomorrow for them. they got tossed, like all the rest of them. I don't know why I'm able to look fresh every morning. But i'm not complaining. I'm just learning as much as I can while i'm here, and occasionally at night i'm able to sneak out and hop on the laptop back in the office and update this blog.

the word on the street is that Sarah Palin is a homophobic politician who wants creationism taught in schools. Now, I know i'm just a pound of beef. But it doesn't take a filet mignon to know that this is some fucked up shit. What right does she have to say that gay people don't deserve the same rights as others? And creationism? Are you kidding me? In this day and age? Just because I was grass fed doesn't mean that I think my former stomach's abilitiy to break down cellulose and turn it into something useful just popped out of no where on day 3 or 4.

i've got some serious beefs with Palin, and my beefs have nothing to do with my own beef identity.

branch down

they say the early bird catches the worm

but if that worm is squirming on a sidewalk shaded by a tree with a weak-ass branch that is just about to fall, then it doesn't make much difference if the bird catches the worm or not.

yesterday, I felt like that bird under the breaking branch...thinking, who gives a fuck about the worm, the branch is going to fall anyway. It was one of those freeing moments. I think italian bf and i were talking about a stat I read this week from the US Energy Information Administration stating that by 2030, the amount of consumed energy will be 50% higher than it was in 2005. that's a lot of fucking coal to be spewing into the atmosphere. good luck polar bears. good luck california native plants. good luck people.

we're gonna be toast. so let's not take life so seriously.

"ahh, the ramblings of a non parent," you say. Perhaps. But it's not like the parents of the world are collectively doing anything to make sure their treasured progeny are going to inherit a better world.

just another manic tuesday

It's six o clock already and I was just in the middle of a dream, I was kissing valentino blah blah blah I forget how the song goes....but no matter cuz it's just another manic monday... actually, it's Tuesday. and on the east coast and the rest of the world it's already Wednesday. my brother in ohio was joking that he was jealous that he doesn't get any email from our uncle in kansas city...and I said...well...all you need to do is create a situation where he thinks that you think that he might hate you...and then you'll get email from him. we laughed.

better buzz

better buzz than what? better buzz than starbucks? YES better buzz than beer? NO

house plant freak out

i was cutting through an alley in PB on saturday, on my way back to the car dealership to pick up the car, when i stumbled upon a blooming tree version of a popular schefflera houseplant. One of the nice things about living in a place that doesn't freeze is that "North American houseplants" get to freak out and do crazy shit like bloom.

and yes, PB is a neighborhood where people routinely put "inside furniture" like sofas outside. It's much more comfy to get drunk on a sofa than a silly patio table.

A "Dubya" to be proud of

italian cookies (and bf) arrived

one of those guys...

overheard snippet of undergraduate conversation:

I guess he's just one of those guys who cries when he gets drunk.

Larry Craig

just cuz this just popped into my head...Larry Craig singing this song while double dutching with knee high socks and corn rows:

fags in london
fags in france
not me...that's just a wide wide stance!

snail mail?

I just sent this email to Wonga, but as I was finishing, I thought it would be a good way to say:

Hey, are you intersted in getting the paper version of the xmas letter but you moved? Or maybe you didn't get it last year...either way, get me your snail mail addy.

hola dudalicious

i'm updating my xmas letter list.

what is your mailing addy?

:0)

d

ps: that nose was a typo. i just meant eyes and mouth...i'm not really into emoticon noses...but since it happened organically i'm cool with it. in fact, it's kinda cute.

Happy Birthday from Infinite Jest

Happy Birthday Matt! Wow, what a year you and Ches have had. AMAZING.

Here is what I read at the end of my yoga class tonight. I thought it would make a decent Happy-Birthday-Matt literary card...here goes...from pg 128 of david foster wallace's infinite jest.

The guru on the towel dispenser just sits there and smiles and doesn't say anything. They hunker, then, and grimace, and try to pull the bar down, but, like, lo: the overweighted shoulder-pull becomes a chin-up. Up they go, their own bodies, toward the bar they're trying to pull down. Everyone should get at least one good look at the eyes of a man who finds himself rising toward what he wants to pull down to himself. And I like how the guru on the towel dispenser doesn't laugh at them, or even shake his head sagely on its big brown neck. He just smiles, hiding his tongue. He's like a baby. Everything he sees hits him and sinks without bubbles. He just sits there. I want to be like that. Able to just sit all quiet and pull life toward me...

as Wall Street pepared to crash...

with only 45 minutes before the opening bell on Wall Street, San Diego lay wrapped in deep ocean fog, and David Foster Wallace...was he awake already?

Infinite Jest Author is Gone

David Foster Wallace killed himself. Bastard. We needed him around a whole lot longer.

Infinite Jest is one of those books that if it gets it's hooks into you, you'll never be quite the same. I never was, and I'm thankful for it.

i think he would have appreciated the story of the crazy xmas tree farmers in ohio that dug some ditches and raised Malaysian freshwater prawns near the town of Toledo. (Nice photo Gregory).

mental note: stop procrastinating

Seriously. It's gotten bad. I have deleted whole groups of voice mails without listening to them. Why? Bc there are a few that I waited too long to respond to...and then it was late, and it became "a thing" (at least in my head) and then I didn't want to have to listen to those voice mails, but I have to get through them to get to newer voice mails, which too became late. And it's a positive feedback loop (in a negative direction) that leads me to being an inconsiderate jerk. but before I continue flogging myself, allow me to come to my own defense. f*cking information overload. For real. Too many emails and voice mails. To much to respond to, and none of it feels real. it's all virtual in medium, even though the people behind them are real. I'm tired of living in such a virtual world. I want to get drunk with my neighbor on friday night just because we saw each other in the hallway and decided to hang out...oh, wait...that's what i did on friday night. Sweet! at least that.

nasal gazing

go f*ck yourself

the next time someone tells you to go f*ck yourself, tell them you'd be happy to, as long as they put up the $89.95 plus tax.

You see, I stepped into a porn store this evening after dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in San Diego. And what for my wandering eyes did appear? A mold-your-own dildo -- i almost shed a tear.

For less than 10 10 spots, you can hit your own male g spot. You can have your cock rubberized. For less than $100 you're immortalized. For the Halloween costume boxes of your great grandchildren who may never know you...except for the raisinized shiveled up heap of a man who can't get it up despite all the viagra in the land.

According to the label on the side of the bucket (yes, bucket), you just stick your dick into a little somethin' somethin' for 60 seconds and then take it out and pour in the quick curing rubber. And in no time flat, you got something fat! Well, as fat as that thing in your pants.

And if you've still got a little itch in your pocket that can't be soothed with a little pool, consider one of these DVD buys:

Florida Erection starring Al Bore (and presumably George W. Bush...no name tweak required)

...if you were thinking about something a bit more international, consider the asian treat "Sticky Buns"

UPDATE:

So, I just googled the make your own dildo thing and of course it's all over the Web. I found a particularly fascinating quote on the testimonials page at makeyourowndildo.com

"I brought some kits to a friend's bachelor party. They were the hit of the night!"
- Ron L., Portland, OR

What kind of bachelor party was that? And why wasn't I invited?

Wonga, please provide illustration!

In a dream last night, Wonga and I cut across University Blvd in Silver Spring on our way to the pool. A cinderblock wall prevented us from cutting across the formerly wooded lot that eventually became a miniMcMansion suburban infill development. On cue, one of the offspring of the buyers of one aforementioned miniMcMansion showed up and led us through the hidden hole in the wall. On the other side of the wall? A poor neighborhood in Mexico. We spent the next hour scaling the walls of a shanty-town/political-compound made of light and flimsy foam board and other materials that might be used to make an architectural model.

Halloween is the new basement (part 2)

Halloween IS the new basement.

That's what italian bf concluded recently. And by that he meant that Halloween is my new official excuse for not throwing things away. The above photos are from my parents' basement in Silver Spring, taken over Labor Day weekend 2008. According to my mom's calculations, you don't ever have to throw anything away. You just put it in the basement. And this is an awesome plan, especially if you are her son, live 3,000 miles away and have a ton of stuff in that basement that you don't want to lose, but don't actually want in your own house/apartment.

But in said house/apartment, I am hoarding yogurt containers and their lids. I plan to cut them up and tie/sew/hot-glue-gun the pieces together and create some sort of Roman-armor-meets-guy-in-a-hot-dog-suit combo. My costume will be called "dairy queen" and it will be a big hit in West Hollywood on Halloween. That's the idea anyway.

nyc with the moms

The moms only waited 38 years for her return visit to New York. Her first was a honeymoon visit. At this rate, her next trip will be on her 98th birthday.

pocket pool

Perhaps I played one too many games of pocket pool. But whatever the reason, whichever the season, no matter how pleasin', I have ended up with a big hole in the pocket of my favorite jeans.

Even since the hole emerged, I manage to scare myself at least once a day. Like this morning, when a quarter I mistakenly put in that pocket slid down my leg, sending an oh-my-god-something-is-crawling-down-my-leg feeling up my spine.

I especially dig these jeans b/c I bought them at H&M in Berlin on my first trip to Europe. It was early April 2002. Ahh, riding in Mercedes Benz cabs on my employer's dime.

Happy Birthday Douglas

Happy Birthday Douglas!

I tried to pack up this Coast Guard cadet and mail him to you. But his coast guard knot-training also seems to have made him an expert at UN-tying knots. After an akward moment at the post office where he climbed out of the box clearly labeled "Baby Elephant" and asked why he was wearing just a jock strap, he was flattered to be wanted as a birthday gift (and he appriciated the water and snacks and portable DVD I included for his travels)...but he was not flattered enough to actully go along with the plan...oh well...at least I tried...your other present should be in the mail...mom had to send it since you were TOO BUSY to meet us in New York on Monday :) (It's okay, I understand)... happy birthday again! love, daniel

Halloween is the new basement.

Halloween is the new basement.

I'll explain more over the coming days, after I return to my basement homeland in Silver Spring.

But until then, be warned: Peet's Coffee and Tea is already serving pumpkin spiced latte's for your autumnal pleasure...in San Diego where it was damn hot today and the surfed called out to her friends louder than a mamma sea gull calling out to her prematurely fledged offspring that can't figure out how to fly off of our balcony.

these are high in iron

In the dictionary according to me...

when you are in a public place and you want to stall so that the person or people you are with have the chance to see something (or more likely someone) that you find particularly interesting, you point to a nearby object and say...

These are high in iron.

This all began at whole paycheck a couple of weeks ago when italian bf, his two friends who stayed with us for 17 days and I saw a super hot guy in the bulk food section who seemed hot enough and straight enough to be a potential suitor for our female friend emi. In order to stay nearby without being (too) obnoxious, we manufactured a long conversation about various items in the bulk bins. This, of course, wall all happening in italian. and my most proud moment of the stalling-near-the-hot-guy conversation came when I pointed to the pumpkin seeds and said "quests sono alto en ferro" which is my bad italian for "these are high in iron."

as I mentioned, "these are high in iron" can be applied for pretty much anything. For instance, I pointed to a box of tic tacs near the self-checkout at the grocery store tonight and told italian bf "look these are high in iron".

constipation discount

Banana Republic owes me a constipation discount.

I spend my hard earned money there?

And what do I get in return?

Un-necessarily hard caca.

Hold on. I'll explain. Let me just flush wipe the Preparation H suppository residue off my fingers first.

okay, that's better. This keyboard will never chafe my fingers, but otherswise, all is well.

Where was I? Oh yeah. The constipation discount.

I was in the flagship Banana Republic in Santa Monica a few weeks ago with italian bf and two old-school friends of his from pizza land. I offloaded an armful of to-be tried on sale-rack items (grazie italian bf), and located the nearest sales associate . I encountered a pair.

"Hi. Can you tell me where the restroom is?"

Pause.

Creepy-looking-Banana-Republic-sales-associate-who-looks-like-the-guy-who-you-pay- to-fix -your-computer...the guy who will fix your computer, but not before he copies all the porn you have stashed away on your hard drive...that guy calmly says "our bathrooms are no longer available to the public."

there is some back and forth ending with him telling my incredulous self that there is a Starbucks across the street.

Taking a shit in a Starbucks bathroom on 3rd Street Promenade on a hot August Saturday in Santa Monica, California? No thanks. I'd rather revisit an Ohio Interstate 70 outhouse circa 1985.

Besides, isn't part of the deal of buying overpriced sale-rack clothes made in China but woven in pizza land (whatever that means) is that you have access to a relatively clean bathroom? especially when you are travelling and you're experienceing that fleeting moment where your bowels have said, "alright asshole. It's either now or a week from tuesday. It's your choice."

and that's why i want a constipation discount. I missed the window of opportunity.

In fact, I did talk to the manager after I paid. And she offered me a "one time exception" -- access to the bathroom. but I declined. by the time I got the offer, I was already on the week from tuesday plan.

the new guy in my office is an asshole

The new guy in my office is an asshole. He doesn't take his sunglasses off, even at meetings.

and what's with those elf shoes?

He think's he cool. He finishes emails with 'cheers'. I don't think he's ever been to England. So why does he say "cheers" in emails? And if he ever was in London, I'm sure it was for work, and I'm doubly sure he didn't even go into a pub. He probably went somewhere dorky like a science museum.

And sometimes I hear him on the phone trying to talk some other language. He says ciao. who is he talking to? the pizza guy?

And rumor has it he wears two pairs of socks because his feet are sensitive. What a dork.

pool-io-lypic dilusions

a reverse two and half somersalts in the pike position.

it looks easy on TV.

i hope my speedo is tight enough. If it's not, I'll never win gold. And my competitors from the hosting country have bags and bags of shaved body hair to back up their claim that they are in fact 16 years old. It's true that one of the bags of "public pubic hair" that they put on display at the opening ceremony was in fact yak hair.

metal mouth

should I get a metal mouth?

well, a modern metal mouth, which is in fact not metal at all. It's invisible. and it's expensive. and the orthodontists say the 7K would mean that I MIGHT have my teeth longer when I'm old and g(r)ay.

In case you don't read comments:

Blogger Jenn said...

what is wrong with your teeth?

August 22, 2008 11:25 AM

Blogger Daniel said...

nothing right now...
its just that my gums are receeding faster than they should (on four on the front) b/c my bite is a little messed up
b/c of lower crowding
and so parts of my gums get too much vibration from my teeth hitting in a weird way
and this triggers faster than normal gum recession...
it's one of those things where they are like...

well...

if you spend the money now, you might be a lot better off later on, but we can't promise you that you won't be okay without fixing your teeth now...

and then chris said...


Blogger C.G. Barrett said...

So the dentist wants to make a gay guy's teeth straight?

Is he part of some radical, right-wing group of Christian conservatives?

Whatever you do, do NOT, under any circumstances, accept his referral to a urologist...

August 23, 2008 5:46 AM
************* chris, that is HILARIOUS.

the glass is half full

when I heard this poem on the radio today, I wished I'd written it. But i'm awful glad I'm around to hear it.

What We Might Be, What We Are

by X. J. Kennedy

If you were a scoop of vanilla
And I were the cone where you sat,
If you were a slowly pitched baseball
And I were the swing of a bat,

If you were a shiny new fishhook
And I were a bucket of worms,
If we were a pin and a pincushion,
We might be on intimate terms.

If you were a plate of spaghetti
And I were your piping-hot sauce,
We'd not even need to write letters
To put our affection across,

But you're just a piece of red ribbon
In the beard of a Balinese goat
And I'm a New Jersey mosquito.
I guess we'll stay slightly remote.

"What We Might Be, What We Are" by X.J. Kennedy, from Exploding Gravy © Little, Brown, 2002. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)

manual man bra

manual man bra...without a shadow of a doubt.

Nick Drake Remixed

Just as weekends can be a cruel taste of freedom for office monkeys like me, this link provides a cruelly abbreviated taste of a blissful remix of one of my favorite songs.

http://mp3.juno.co.uk/MP3/SF300536-01-01-13.mp3

here is an unmixed version of the same song:

venice surfer (LA not Italy)

Another one bites the muff

Add John Edwards to the list of famous people who let their mouths do the walking and willies do the talking.

I really don't care.

But...if you are going to waste my time by doing something that is going to clog up the media atmosphere for a good 24 to 48 hours, then we ought to get something out of the deal. Instead of reading a pre-olympics gymnastics story, I devoted my very limited internet news time to you John Edwards. And I want something in return. I want to know how big little john is.

From now on, I think all celebrity sex stories that break should be required to include specific anatomical details. Dimensions dammit. I'd also like to know the volume of a three day shot. Is that too much to ask?

coffee buzz

coffee buzz
oh coffee buzz
where art thou oh coffee buzz?

You wake my brain
You keep me sane
You taste better in the rain

The zipping neurons
Help me ignore the morons
And dig in and get my work on

When its you and me all morning long
It's driving with best friend and kick-ass song

two hours later

Oh f*ck, i'm coming...

down

dull thud in skull does grow
the caffeine buzz is going. dough!

dough! in homer simpson sense
not kitchen of white wife and picket fence

her loins

those red things on the right side of the photo above...they are "her loins"...according to italian bf. of course they are really "heirlooms" as in heirloom tomatoes...but somehow, italian bf started phonetically calling them "her loins" and i haven't had the heart to tell him until now. I think it's super cute when he gets words wrong...and it drives him crazy when I don't correct him...so I promised to correct him on most things...but not until I get a little fun out of the situation.

italian bf refered to them as "her loin tomatoes" to our Japanese friends last night. they didn't say a word and I just sat there and laughed on the inside. and then today at the grocery store, italian bf was like "no more her loins" and I totally agreed. I am SO not interested in her loins. The her loins in san diego this summer have totally sucked, and I'm not talking about the female eye candy at pacific beach. the farmers around here are growing really shitty her loin tomatoes and charging outrageous prices for them. I have been calling them "industrial heirlooms" but from now on they are "industrial her loins."

cheese vegetarians

in addition to becoming both my mom and my dad (in various ways both good and bad), I have also become one of the characatures I made much fun of in college: the famed "cheese vegetarian". This curious transient subspecies of vegetarian exists almost entirely on store bought tortillas filled with microwaved cheese and bagles draped in peanut butter. matt and I got a lot of mileage out of laughing at the absurdity of swearing off meat only to gorge on low quality dairy products.

look at last night's dinner party. this is a cheese vegetarian's wet dream. buffalo mozzerella surrounding a pile of burrata, which is basically fresh mozz on the outside and creamy dairy goo on the inside. it's amazing. and it was half price. why? because we bought it on the day it was set to expire. it wasn't discounted, but when we got to the register, I was like "this is going to expire today. Can I have it for half price?" they called back to a manager who gave us the green light. Four dollars saved. That's almost a gallon of gas.

this was at Bristol Farms, the absurd grocery store that only exists because there are rich old people whose only task in life is to burn their money. We went from bristol farms to Whole Paycheck, which by comparison, feels like a bargain. At Whole Paycheck, we found a hunk o cheese from near the northern italian town of Cuneo that gave birth to the Slow Food Movement. This cheese, too, was set to expire that evening. We got it for half price too. We saved $7.50 on a hunk o' cheese.

right thumb nail

I finally figured out why the skin under my right thumbnail is often irritated.

when i peel oranges, I often use the right thumb to dig in and puncture that skin the first time.

In fact, I'm proud of my opposable thumb overuse. I'm feeling very capable, in primate terms, tonight.

really?

really? it's been a week?

really? I just my mom a homemade birthday card for her 60th birthday?

really? One of my brothers wants us to present my mom with a $900 check so she can buy a sofa for her birthday that i'm sure she won't be happy with. And besides, she now has two grandbabies who come to grandmas house and want to jump all over the furniture. Is this the time for a new sofa?

Can you tell that I'm partial to the industrial dorm style furniture that has been in my parents' living room since (almost) as long as I can remember? I still remember when the brown plaid dude was the main sofa...if we could get new inner cushions for that, it would be all the rage in a retro thrift shop.

RSS Really (and finally)

Kelly has been extoling the benefits of RSS for years, but this week I finally converted. I'm working on a mega reader for work that tracks the activity off all the top university press offices, tech bloggers and major and niche media outlets. It's gonna kick some serious ass and save some serious time while keeping me seriously updated. can you tell i'm seriously stoked? seriously.

of course, I'm also setting up one for personal blogs.

i have to pee

when I was little, I had to "urinate"

when I got a little older, I had to "piss"

after a year or two of college, I had to "pee"

Ten years after college, I still have to pee

in fact, I have to pee right now.

Or do I have to piss?

am I butch enough to piss right now?

am I sensitive enough to pee?

am I sharp enough to know the difference?

rather than deliberate
I better just urinate.

sigur ros is coming to san diego

sigur ross is coming to san diego, and I want to go.

btw, I just finished teaching my yoga class this week, and I played sigur ros. true, we did shoulder stand before backbends (I done forgot). I also managed to steal the yoga mat of one of the students. he was in the bathroom and I stood on his mat and started the class. without saying a word, he just went to my matt...and 10 minutes later, I was like, "Jim, did I steal your yoga mat" and he was like "yeah" and everyone started laughing.

by the way, I'm still pissed at my high school...and I'm scheming...I'm going to figure out a way (I hope) to embarass Gonzaga High School in Washington DC. I gave them some money and sent in a class update in which i mentioned moving to san diego with italian bf. they cashed my check and proceeded NOT to publish my life update. the homophobic bastards. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do...but I think it involves throwing a huge bash in which people who are pissed at their homophobic high schools will all get together and have a big old party and raise a big ruckus and stir up some bad publicity for all the schools...but this is just a rough sketch...i don't know exactly what the plan is yet...

true, you could say that this kind of event could also make gonzaga look good in the eyes of the rich conservatives, the Pat Buchanons of the world who write big fat checks to their religiously oriented high school alma maters. but I think there is a way to make sure it's not all roses for the homophobpic bastards...yes, that's the second time I'm called them homophobic bastards, and this is the third (and fourth) time I said homophobic bastards. Why? because, in fact they are (fifth reference) homophobic bastards.

book

it has been one of those evenings when I actually feel like trying to squeeze out that book that intermittently percolates in my brain. but insead of jerking myself off with literary lallygagging, let's talk chicken. really. chicken dinner. The chicken dinner we had on saturday night.

it was no Stove Top selection, though it was all cooked on the stove top. Italian bf's friend who is in her mid 50s, Italian, and the mother of three boys (now aged 26, 22 and 18) cooked for us on saturday night as if she were cooking for her boys and husband. She visited us from Boston for a long weekend, no husband or sons in tow.

"I don't know how to cook for less than five!" she admitted as she transferred an entire cooked chicken from the blue enamel roasting pan to a glass casserole dish. She then poured the lemon/water/veggie bullion/garlic/rosemary/chicken juice onto the chicken meat in the glass pan. She truly was a mother hen feeding us like she feeds her babies. It felt really good. Moms are awesome!

cool music i've heard on KCRW.com

Your new twin sized bed, by Death Cab for Cutie

song: sour milk by Wild Sweet Orange

song: Crayola doesn't make a color for your eyes by Kristin Andreassen

Before It Gets Better by Earlimart...unfortunately, I can't find this track streaming on the Web...it's from the new Hymn and Her album. I scribbled down a haunting line from this song: "You can count all the friends who still really know you on just one hand"

album: Lost Blues and other Songs by Palace Music

tag chores

blue like the ocean water